Sunday February 22, 1976

Sex(agesima). Sit on the settee with Carole until after 4 o'clock this morning. The sun was creeping over Otley Chevin by the time I hit the sack, and I didn't feel at all tired. Carole is a darling. She maybe backward and dull-witted, but gorgeous all the same. Our only problem is one of communication really. Sometimes we get on like a barn on fire, but on other occasions I feel as though I'm banging my head against a barn wall because she just doesn't understand a word I say. I had the same feelings of frustration last year in Majorca when a German girl couldn't understand that I wanted to dance with her. However, I hasten to add, I am not serious in any way and I could never make her my wife or 'constant companion'. I'll be battling on in a single capacity when Carole is the proud grandmother of scores of children.

Up at lunchtime and the two of us go for a bracing walk down through Esholt Woods and round to Silverdale to see John & Maria's house again. (PS - I went to look at the house yesterday afternoon with Lynn & Dave, and we had a coffee with Bessie Little and Stuart.) Carole was startled by the smallness of the place and likened it to Paul's rabbit hutch. Modern houses do look small when compared with Pine Tops Palace.

Back to our place at 3 o'clock and Mum, Lynn and Sue depart for the Macdonald residence where they remain until evening.

Just Carole and I left and we watch a bit of TV. Arthur Negus in 'Going For A Song' -and then played records until 7 o'clock.

Had tea with Dad - just the three of us. He is baffled by her ignorance. I've come to the conclusion that nobody can hold a conversation with her.

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Thursday April 18, 1974

Rose at 11. Decide to make resolutions. 1). Never to go the Emmotts again; 2). Not to post a letter to June, and to try and forget her. Lynn and Sue are in the bath, seperately of course, which prevents me from bathing until 11.30. Mr Little and Stuart come and collect Stuart's dart board, which he left on his last visit in February. The little horror had no shoes on his feet! Later: Mum, Dad and I go into Guiseley and I browse around the library for half an hour. Get no books.

Go to the YP at 5. All the girls gone, except Kathleen that is. We have a very quiet night, and I find it very enjoyable. Kathleen and I discuss my career over a coffee and she thinks that journalism is what I should aim for. She intends making inquiries in that direction.

Whilst filing I notice that Richard Crossman, the Labour MP, died on my birthday and think it strange that little publicity has been given to the fact. The Express recently said he had cancer, but that is all.

The cheerful man who does sporting activities, I can't remember the name, kept yelling: "What would you do if an important person dies?" However, my capabilities cover the personalities side of the library, and it's things like Turkish politics, etc, which I find worrying. The cheerful sporting character laughed when he discovered that I was going home by taxi, saying: "I knew from the very start that you had class." Kathleen went at 10.15 and I held the fort alone until 12. Taxi came at 12.15. Home by 12.35. All expenses paid as well!!


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Sunday February 3, 1974

4th after Epiphany. Mother wakes me at 10. A beautiful morning - very bright, crisp, and clear. Have my breakfast with Dad who is on duty until 2pm. At 11 Mr Rhodes, the driving instructor (no relation) picked me up - drive until 12. Don't do too badly though I feel very self-conscious about the whole thing. Rhodes is quite a decent chap really - 35-ish. At 12 John goes out driving until 1. My next lesson is on the 12th. In the afternoon, John Little brought Stewart, Mum's godson, to see his Auntie Nora. He's well and truly a little horror - being a typical 5 year-old. Spoilt, selfish and enormously greedy. John nearly died laughing at the tea table when the little lad crammed his mouth full of sticky chocolate cake - even Mum saw the humour in it. I suppose that most 5 year-olds do the same. To Lynn's relief he went at 7. Poor Lynn hates children. I'm sure she'll be the type of mother who beats the brains out of her little Angels (joking of course). Chris rang at 7. John decides to go out - but I decide to have a quiet evening. Monty Python comes before any other method of enjoyment. See a slapstick war comedy on tv - quite funny. Monty Python gives me heart-burn I laugh so much. It was the episode about storage jars exploding in the House of Lords... Mum and Dad go to Burley-in-Wharfedale. Home at 11. I talk with Dad about the current political problems until well after 1 o'clock. "Tiger Feet" by Mud. -==--

Saturday March 3, 1973

Got up at 11.30. Had breakfast with Mum, Dad and Sue. John and Lynn were both at work. I played John's Supremes greatest hits record - it's a bit dated. In the middle of lunch Stuart Little, Mum's 5 year-old godson came to see us, and stayed until nearly 6. The weather was warm and sunny and they decided to go with him for a drive to make the most it. I remained at home for a lazy afternoon. I played records and watched a chronic film on the telly until 4.30 when John arrived home from work - we watched the football results together - how delightfully interesting!
Mum, Dad, Sue and Stuart came home at about 5. I had dinner - which consisted of some kind of curried beef creation - very tasty, and then proceeded to watch 'Dr Who'. Lynn came back from Leeds in a terrible state. After work she had gone to Leeds with Alison to do some shopping - to spend her birthday money -Well, whilst going around Leeds she caught her foot in the turn-ups of her Oxford Bags and fell heavily onto the pavement - her arm is awfully bruised, probably broken.

Went down to the Chuck Wagon at 7. We were moderately busy all evening. Pauline begged me not to sit too long with my drink after my work is done. She wants to get off home, but seems to forget that she is finished at 11.30 and is able to sit supping for a hour and a half before I get the chance to have even one. Came home at 1. Had a couple of boiled eggs and came to bed at 2 after sitting with a coffee.

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